


ret·ri·bu·tion

by orphan_account



Series: @irnstrvnge inspired prompts [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, Failed pranks, Found Families, Gen, M/M, Prank Wars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 06:31:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14743727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Stephen finds out that Tony was behind Peter's prank that resulted in him opening a portal to a very large class at Midtown and plots his prank!revenge. So, naturally, everythingliterallyfalls apart, which leads to him finding out the stakes of the original wager between Tony and Peter....





	ret·ri·bu·tion

**Author's Note:**

> This has been in my head pretty much since I wrote the line of Tony asking Peter how much money they made and frankly it wouldn't stop bothering me until I got it out.

After Stephen found out that Tony was behind the dare that resulted in Peter tricking him into opening a portal to a lecture hall _full_ of Peter’s classmates, he started making a point to refrain from speaking to both Tony and Peter. He wasn’t avoiding them, per se, just not saying anything, or saying as little as humanly possible. Part of him was doing it to be petty, but mostly it was because the duo pulled out his really, really competitive side, and he knew that if he said anything too substantial to them, he would spoil the fact that he was planning a retaliatory prank on them.

With each passing day of silence around the duo, Stephen found his patience waning; surprisingly, neither of them seemed to be nearing the end of their ropes. True, the first few days had been rough - Peter had followed him around like a kicked puppy, shoulders curled in and head bowed, not even _trying_ to talk to him, but seemingly grateful that Stephen wasn’t shooing him away. Tony, in those few tense days, did little more than glare pointedly at Strange, and, occasionally, would gesture between he and Peter, as though begging Stephen to take pity on the boy. But, by that point, Stephen was already steadily planning his revenge, and he just _knew_ that all it would take was the deadly combination of Peter’s sad “please-don’t-hate-me” doe eyes and that self-deprecating tone Tony always had when he said something about how he couldn’t believe the doctor had stuck around so long and he would crack like an egg.

So, it had been about two and a half weeks of utter silence on Stephen’s part, and Tony and Peter had - mercifully - decided to skip over the sad, mopey part of their game, and gone right back to everything being like it was before. Peter was prattling on about his day, Tony was rambling about some new invention of his, and Stephen was pretending not to listen or pay any attention all while doing little things like pushing a chair out of Peter’s path as he wandered around with his face buried in a book or swapping Tony’s cold, sludge-like coffee for a fresh cup. Actually, for a few days of this new routine, Stephen would swear this was heaven; he got to spend time with these two _fucking weirdos_ who were so utterly attached to him and didn’t have to try and filter his brain to stop his mouth from saying something completely fucked up or stupid.

* * *

Precisely three weeks to the day after the _incident_ , Stephen woke up early and opened a portal to the humble home he had been visiting every other day leading up to this point; at the excited squeals of laughter, he found it impossible to resist a grin, and soon found his arms full of one overly-enthusiastic Cassie Lang.

“Mister Doctor Strange, you’re back!” she all but screamed in his ear. “Daddy, he’s heeeeeere!”

Scott Lang poked his head out of the kitchen to peer into the dining room in the direction of his daughter’s voice, and laughed at the sight of her already sat comfortably atop the sorcerer’s shoulders. “I can see that, Peanut. You hungry?” he asked Stephen.

Stephen shrugged dramatically, making Cassie cling to the top of his head and shriek with laughter. “I could eat.”

Stephen gestured for the cloak around his shoulders to float up and grab Cassie, smiling softly as she cackled with glee at being floated down to her seat at the table; once she was neatly deposited in her chair, Stephen sat down beside her and served himself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table. “So, I think I’ve got everything all set for my comeuppance,” he called out to Scott, who was shuffling around the kitchen and splitting a large stack of pancakes into three servings.

Scott snorted, and entered the room carefully balancing the plates on his arms as his hands gripped bottles of maple and strawberry syrups. “ _Comeuppance,_ man, you really _do_ talk like you’re inside a Lord of the Rings movie.”

Stephen arched an eyebrow at Scott, and simply said, “Clint?”

Scott laughed loudly, passing Stephen a plate and the strawberry syrup before going around the table to sit on the other side of Cassie, handing her the second plate and pouring maple syrup over her stack. “He likes you, I know he does,” Scott said through a mouthful of his own pancakes, “he just knows how easy you are to screw with and it amuses him.”

Stephen, focused on cutting Cassie’s pancakes for her, only looked up briefly while answering. “Where does he stand on this whole thing? Last you said, he thought we were doomed to fail, plotting against Stark.”

Scott nodded and took another large bite of pancakes. “Yep,” he mumbled around the mass of food. “He made a bet with Cap - Steve seems to have some sort of misguided faith in you, and Barton thinks there’s no way you’ll pull it off.”

“What are their stakes?”

“Clint wins and Cap has to try to hit on Fury in public. Steve wins and Clint has to profess his undying love for Sam - in front of the entire team at the Christmas party.”

Stephen chortled at that, and ruffled Cassie’s hair before standing. “Thanks for the food; I trust you’re ready for your part in all of this?”

Scott nodded and held up three small disks. “Just shoot me a text when Wong is ready to open the portal, and I’ll be there. Maggie’s on her way to get Cassie in an hour, so any time after that works for me.”

Stephen nodded, and leaned into Cassie’s attempts at a hug before pulling away and heading for the portal he had left open in the living room. “I shall see you later, then,” he said; he tipped his head to Cassie and smiled. “Until next we meet, Miss Lang.”

* * *

Later that day, Stephen put the final pieces of his plan into play, and sent Wong a text instructing him to send Scott along with his part of the prank. It looked like everything was going to go according to plan, which, of course, is why it all fell apart.

* * *

Stephen was sitting in what remained of the tower’s kitchen, holding a bag of peas to a nasty looking welt on his forehead, and flinching every time Tony’s voice reached a decibel that threatened to break the sound barrier. This had been going on for nearly twenty minutes now, and even Peter had lost any of the disgruntled look that was previously on his face in favor of looking toward Stephen apologetically. Scott was sitting on the floor, back to the cabinets, and cradling his head in his hands, while Clint looked at Steve with unbridled glee. Tony finally paused in his rant and all of the fight seemed to go out of him in one breath.

He dragged a hand over his face and half-sighed, half-groaned. “Just...talk me through it, Strange. In what world did it seem like a good idea to _shrink the entire Tower_ when we live in a literal _hotbed_ of supervillainy, and we had _just_ been talking about how Doom has been far too quiet for our liking?”

Clint snorted, and Scott looked like he was trying to sit as still as possible to avoid being noticed. Stephen just sighed and shook his head. “I don’t know how many times I have to tell you, Tony, I wasn’t trying to shrink _the entire_ Tower.” He looked at Scott and realized he was on his own trying to explain, but also realized there really wasn’t any clear way to do so since it was an entirely, ah, _visual_ prank he was attempting to orchestrate. “Look, the point is, my attempt at revenge completely and utterly failed, Barton won his childish bet with Rogers, and you and Peter never did tell me how much money you conned those poor kids out of with your stupid prank three weeks ago, so frankly, we’re even if you ask me.”

Peter looked toward Tony with wide eyes and an even wider grin before turning toward Stephen. “Well, now that you mention it….”

* * *

And that was how Stephen and Tony found themselves being subjected to Peter dragging them around New York City like a couple of tourists on the unhappiest vacation with their teenage son who seemingly _just_ discovered Polaroid photography….

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this unexpected sequel! YOU HAVE ALL BEEN SO GREAT COMMENTING ON PART 1! I am so BLESSED and I adore you ALL.
> 
> This is, again, unbeta'd, so any mistakes are entirely my own.
> 
> If you've noticed, this is part of a series that has been dubbed @irnstrvnge inspired prompts, which, YES, means I will be writing more ironstrange soon, inspired by that HYSTERICAL twitter account.
> 
> Let me know in the comments if you have any favorite "incorrect" interactions you want written out, and maybe *Lindsay Lohan British accent* I'll take a whack at it!
> 
> Love you, keep being great, hope you liked this, thanks for reading! xoxoxox


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